


Bang/Aftermath

by ninhursag



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: BDSM, Dubious Consent, Femdom, Gangbang, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of the movie, after they come back to earth but before the commendation ceremony. Kirk gets into a fight that leads to something else. Uhura sees more than she wanted to and can't resist getting involved even if it is the worst idea ever.</p><p>Jim isn't very fixable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/profile)[**st_xi_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/) kink meme. Here's the [prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/379.html?thread=1103227#t1103227), but I played the exact details a little loosely, because my Uhura wouldn't _quite_ roll like that.
> 
> Warning: Extremely, seriously dubious consent. Gangbang. Masochism. Twisted like whoa, I am not even kidding.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[bang 'verse](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/tag/bang+%27verse), [star trek](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/tag/star+trek)  
  
---|---  
  
 

Uhura had no idea how the fight could have started, other than Jim being Jim, pretty boy asshole to the end. She missed it-- she'd spent the night holed up in a corner with a maniacally grinning Orion girl who'd had a few too many whiskey sours and really looked it. Uhura was sticking to the kid's stuff herself-- stuck playing designated driver for a group of friends and more than a little annoyed about getting the short end of the stick. The mood definitely didn't make her more sympathetic.

When she saw him get shoved out the door by a group of angry looking guys in civvies, she didn't even blink, just bent over closer to Galia and screamed a bad joke about pretty boys that couldn't hold their liquor into her ear. Galia was wasted enough to clutch at her and laugh and Uhura didn't think about Jim at all for the next round of beer for her, and shiny, purple drinks with anti-grav umbrellas for everyone else.

It was Galia of all people who reached out and plucked at her sleeve what had to be twenty minutes later and said, "Hey, Nyota, where'd Jim go? You think they're still kicking his ass or showing him a really good time? Bet he'd like that." Then she sputtered into laughter again, almost collapsing into herself.

Uhura smirked and rolled her eyes. "My friend, you are so cut off," she muttered and slapped her on the shoulder.

"He really does like it, you know," Galia said and laughed into her hands. "Never met a human who liked it like that before. Thought you were aaaallll prudes."

She could have let it go then, but she was curious and irritated and, maybe a little worried. Jim Kirk was an asshole, but he was still the asshole that had saved her ship and her planet. She owed him a check in to make sure he wasn't dead.

She didn't know what she expected. She expected nothing. Violence, blood, Jim's wild laughter if he hadn't gotten it beaten out of him yet. And she was right, all of that was there, but whatever they were doing had gone a light year and around the bend from a beating.

She figured out the smell before she made sense of the sight. Trash from the bar and then-- that. Thick, musky, too much, mixed too heavily with blood. They had him bent over something-- a rickety table, she could hear it tremble against the concrete under their feet when one of them thrust. Shudder, creak, shudder, creak. Someone laughing.

A voice, male and breathless, full of shocked arousal. "Holy fuck, you unbelievable slut, are you actually still hard?"

She almost ran back inside. Her phaser-- she didn't carry a phaser on Earth, but she could get someone who did. Get a group that was sober enough to do something... fuck. She almost did, but she was swaying on her feet, rooted to the spot and what she saw was resolving itself into something that made sense. He was naked. She could see the torn remnants of his clothes scattered in one corner.

There were five she could count, one from behind laughing like a drain, sharp voice high and young. Another one, older, thickset and determined, his hands on Jim's neck, hissing something low and incomprehensible while he pushed his dick into Jim's mouth. Deep, deep enough for Jim to make low, gagging sounds, deep enough for the outline of it to be visible down his throat. Two holding his legs apart, wide and open and another to push down his wrists. His thighs glistened, so wet in the dull light streetlight.

Five. Enough to account for the bruises on Jim's face. For how absolutely outmatched he must have been. He didn't move like he thought he was outmatched, he stretched like an athlete, like his body had been made for this.

She blinked like there was bright sunlight in her eyes and he writhed, like he was aching to slide deeper onto the man. His neck and hips arched to the limit. Stretched out and stuffed. Orgasmic or in agony. Both. The man inside him laughed and smacked his ass hard. "Pretty thing loves it," he gasped, rough and eager while Jim choked.

She tasted blood before she knew she'd bitten the meat of her cheek. It was all she could do to hold back a scream and she didn't know if it was the unexpected hurt or watching him come like that.

Whatever it was, it broke her paralysis. She probably should have been afraid-- there were enough of them, enough to take down Jim, but then he-- he wanted it, just about screamed for it. Maybe. She probably, probably didn't need to be afraid that-- she couldn't think about that now.

She stepped forward into the light, fast, no hesitation. Jim would do that too, was like that. "Hey," she snapped, thick ring of authority in her voice, like they were first year cadets caught smoking and she was the hall monitor. It was disgusting. "What the hell do you people think you're doing?"

She didn't know if she really expected it to work. Maybe it wouldn't have if they'd really looked at her and seen one woman, not too tall, with empty hands and a Star Fleet uniform. They didn't look, didn't wait. They ran like she was the civil authorities with fury and photon fire on her hip.

That just left her with one Jim Kirk. He was a complete asshole. He was her captain, even if that turned out to be temporary. He was broken and beautiful on a trashed table in a back alley of a bar and he was the guy who'd saved the earth. It left her shaking-- shaken to the bone, up on her heels and eager to run more than she had been from anything in her life. She could almost have done it while he was like that, face down, not looking at her, not looking at anything.

Then he lifted his head, slow and shaky, and met her eyes and it was too late. His were glazed, almost incoherent, but they fixed on her like she was a point of light. She saw unblinking, dilated pupils. Still drunk off his ass or concussed from too many punches and slams to the head or both. He smiled at her through it, a smile so wide and white and sweet she almost caught her breath until the fucked up sound of his voice brought reality crashing back.

"Hey, Nyota," he rasped. "You like to watch? Told you it wasn't _just_ farm animals I screwed." His head dropped back down with a thump that had to be painful. She wondered if he was even feeling the hurt anymore and how long it would take to start again. She shivered and took a step forward. The first was the hardest.

She didn't say, they might as well have been farm animals. That they were worse. She didn't ask him what was wrong with him. "Who said you could call me Nyota? Captain," she said and she didn't know why. He'd never looked less in charge of anything, even himself.

One step, two, three. Four and five and she was next to him and she still didn't know. He made a low whimpering noise when she touched him, hand on his bare shoulder another on the back of his neck. There was a bite mark there, red and bleeding. She ran a thumb over it, spreading shiny spit and come around, and he shuddered under the touch. Hips jerked and pushed against the table under him.

She sucked in her lower lip. Fuck, this was... she didn't understand. She was running on pure instinct and it felt so perilous. Anything would be wrong, anything she tried. His body was too hot under her hands, inflamed and bleeding, come-sticky everywhere, like he'd been bathed in it. Her heart pounded in her ears. Now what, now what, now what?

He turned over when she urged him to do it with her hands, no resistance at all. Like a beautiful living doll, on his back and then slipping further, down off the table and onto his hands and knees. His eyes were narrow, tired and red rimmed, but he smiled again, close mouthed now, but with that same ruined, rotting sweetness. "Oh," he whispered. Somewhere between mockery and exhaustion. "This what you were waiting for, huh? Okay. Go'head. Lieutenant Uhura, ma'am."

"What... no. Jesus, Jimmy," she murmured, cradling his face between her palms. The skin was so filthy and sticky she had to peel her hands away to get them off. "It doesn't have to be... you've been doing this all wrong."

He blinked at her. His lashes were covered in thick white that only seemed to set off the blue of his eyes. "Yeah?" he whispered hoarsely. "You gonna show me how to do it right, baby?" His raw, red mouth slid into another lopsided, painful looking stretch of grin. Up close it showed off his bleeding teeth. "I know what you really want."

She didn't know what she wanted at all but she leaned down and kissed him-- to shut him up, God, it had to be just to shut him up. He tasted as horrible as she expected. Worse, like an open sewer-- metallic blood and spit with come and filth and sickly sour liquor underneath. She licked his mouth open anyway, felt the bruised, torn flesh. Her brain screamed at her. Mixed signals. Confusion. His hands were shaking, she could feel them resting on her thighs, holding on like she was all that was keeping him balanced.

She kept kissing him and he kept letting her, his mouth loose and sloppy, fucked open. Obliterated. She cradled the back of his neck, holding on while his hands slid up, pushed at the fabric of her uniform skirt. Up and up until it was hiked over her ass and his thumbs slid under the waist of her underwear. Down and down. She let him down-- pushed him down, really, and, oh fuck, she hadn't even known how wet-- how wet she'd gotten watching this, fuck so, sick. She couldn't know until he was there, face between her legs, long, agile tongue and cold, shaking fingers. Touching like he'd been training for this for years.

It might have taken a long time or not time at all. She didn't know. There wasn't time, just him, her hands on his neck, the way he shook so hard, the motion of his tongue, moving in deep, deep, like he wanted to taste. It left her gasping, weak kneed and destroyed, leaning against the wall and trying to remember to breath.

He might have said something afterwards, but whatever it was got cut off by a choking cough. It was an awful sound, spitting and gagging, coughing up white. She barely caught him before he collapsed back onto the filthy ground. Even then he was too heavy for her, no strength left in him, and the best she could do was ease him down instead of letting him just fall, keep him from hitting too hard. He curled right up, knees to his chest, still drawing gasping, wheezing breaths. He looked agonizingly young like that, curled up into a ball of raw skin and shaking muscles.

Uhura flinched and drew back. Reached out again, to touch his forehead, his skin, but found she couldn't do it. "Stay put. I'll go inside and get you some water," she whispered. "Then we'll see about getting you home."

She turned and didn't run, but she had to force herself to go slow. She could hear his thick sobs behind her in time with the slap of her boots on pavement. She waited until she was behind a door to lose her own control, hands on her face and she didn't know she was crying until they came away wet.

By the time she got back, wash cloth and water bottle in hand, he was gone, him and whatever was left of his clothes. She looked for him, called his name almost desperately for what felt like forever, but must have been minutes at most. She almost didn't know what it was when she heard his bike scream by, but he slowed down enough to give her a quick, one finger salute before gunning it.

She almost wanted to laugh, watching him off into the night. She had no idea how he could even sit upright on the thing and hoped to hell he was with it enough to get where he was going.

"Shit," she said out loud and scrubbed her face with her hands. "Now what?" But there was only ever going to be one answer to that question.

It was four hours later before she stopped and hit the chime outside of Spock's quarters. Listened to it chime, a little too loud. It sounded discordant in her head, made it hard to think. There was a moment's hesitation before the door squeaked open. Just long enough that she knew he must have been distracted with something else, that he wasn't expecting her. He had no reason to.

When he saw her he raised an eyebrow and she just shook her head and met his eyes. Even if she wanted to lie, that was never going to happen. She knew what she looked like, sweaty and disheveled, stinking of what she'd done. Sticky hands and sticky mouth from touching something she never should have.

"I think I may have-- I mean I did. I did something so far over the line," she said and grimaced, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I'm not sure... I'm not really sure how I can explain myself."

"Indeed," Spock said, softly, but something heavy and dark underneath it. Vulcans, she remembered, always remembered, could feel rage. Maybe especially Spock. She didn't shiver. There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. "May I see for myself? So I can understand."

She shrugged and nodded, stepping inside the door first, but barely. After all, this would be the easiest way. "I think you'd better," she admitted out loud. "I... I certainly don't understand it myself." He nodded once and that was it. He pressed his fingers against her cheek, with a slow practiced hand and she let the memories come forward. The alley, the smell-- the stink. And every bit of bruised, battered sweetness. Jim's mouth.

He leaned against her, holding on a few seconds longer than the mind meld really demanded. She could smell his heat, feel the double time heartbeat. Finally, without warning, his arms wound around her waist, pulling her in tight and he buried his head against her neck.

"Nyota," he whispered. "This will be a difficult thing that you seek to do. _He_ is a difficult thing. I once said he needed to be broken before he'd be useful. And yet..."

She smiled, unexpectedly and it felt so good. A relief, pressing the curve of her mouth into his hair. She didn't have to explain it after all. He smelled sweet, fresh. Different as hell from Kirk, but just as unbelievably sexy in his own way. "And yet," she agreed. "I'd say he's already broken. Broken and healed wrong."

He sighed and his arms tightened around her. She could feel the balm of his understanding. He understood, maybe better than she did. Maybe the darker part of him more than got it, maybe he even felt something like desire, dank and deep, wanting to touch what she had. Or maybe that was wishful thinking or an echo of the mind meld, her brain reflecting itself, projecting onto him.

When he spoke he sounded calm, rational. Nothing dark in it. "You would undertake to correct this... brokenness, if such a thing were possible." It was a statement, firm and decisive. "I did not know he was so important to you."

"Is he? I don't know myself what he is to me. Or to you, if we're talking about it." She shook her head. "I won't go ahead unless you're in this with me," she said.

He made a soft, chiding sound and she could feel him frown. She let out a breath and tucked herself in closer. "You have already begun. It would be... cruel to have pushed that far and no further."

"I can be cruel," she said. She had been tonight, God knew. Spock knew, but he still lowered his chin against her shoulder and spread his fingers over the small of her back in a quiet, soothing way. She understood without words that this time she wouldn't have to be.


	2. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exciting sequel to [Bang](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/64342.html). Wherein Uhura is confused by Spock, more attracted to Kirk than she wants to be and has some painful decisions to make. Also, there's kinky sex, which is the real reason to read this kind of thing.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[bang 'verse](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/tag/bang+%27verse), [star trek](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/tag/star+trek)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Star Trek Fic: Aftermath** _

Title:Aftermath  
Author: [](http://ninhursag.livejournal.com/profile)[**ninhursag**](http://ninhursag.livejournal.com/)  
Rating: Adult (porn, you know)  
Pairings: Kirk/Uhura, Spock/Uhura, unconsummated Kirk/Spock/Uhura  
Notes: The exciting sequel to [Bang](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/64342.html). Wherein Uhura is confused by Spock, more attracted to Kirk than she wants to be and has some painful decisions to make. Also, there's kinky sex, which is the real reason to read this kind of thing.  
Warnings: Actually, a lot tamer than [Bang](http://vaingirlfic.livejournal.com/64342.html). Elements of controlled d/s. Femdom. For the easily triggered there's also heavily implied past child abuse.  
Spoilers: For the movie. This actually takes place between the last two scenes of the films and some major plot lines are discussed here.  
  


After they pinned a medal on his chest and gave him the Enterprise, Uhura didn't see much of Jim Kirk for weeks. Oh, she saw his face on every vid screen tuned to the news, blue eyed and fair haired, toothy smile. Clean and unbending, the hero that saved Earth. If only Earth knew.

She didn't see him to talk to though, not since one fucked up night in an alley that should never have happened. Uhura wouldn't have known how to talk to him anymore anyway, not to Jim, and that part of it made her as angry as any of the rest. It was mostly her fault-- she'd been dumb, off balance. He'd been out of his head and literally fucked up, but she'd let him push her there. She still saw him behind her eyelids when her mind wandered, dreamed him between her legs. His sulky-sweet bruised and beautiful face, sticky eyelashes and wide smile.

For weeks she let it go, let him go. Right up until the word got around that he was picking a crew for the Enterprise and that was when she went to find him. Make or break time. She caught up with him with him when he was eating lunch at a picnic table on the Academy grounds, a book flickering open in front of him, the bright text reflecting on his face. His face was still bruised-- a whole new set of bruises if she had to guess-- he'd been fine at the awards ceremony. She thought he might be angry after the last time, but when he looked up and saw her watching him he smiled like nothing had ever happened between them. No alleyway, no sex, no twisted aftermath.

"Uhura!" he called, bright and sunny. "Hey. How's it going?"

She shrugged and settled down across the table from him like she'd been asked. "I'm doing okay. I see you're still having fun and alienating people." Without waiting for an invitation, she reached out to press one fingertip against a bruise. Still pushing. His skin felt tense and warm under her hand, but he stayed still, bearing up under the touch and smirked at her like it didn't matter.

"Who, me? Actually my sparring partner in hand to hand just got a little overenthusiastic." He laughed out loud. "No one smacks the savior of earth in the face on purpose, did you know that?"

"Must be boring for you," she said slowly. "Unsatisfying." His grin widened even more than should have been humanly possible and he showed his teeth.

"Why, Lieutenant," he crooned. "Are you offering to keep me entertained? That's so sweet. What does your boyfriend think of that?" She hadn't been offering, not until he said the words and made it real.

She rolled her eyes. She really couldn't help it. "Let me worry about that," she said.

He laughed at her, blue eyes bright in the sunlight and held out his hands, palms up like he was offering her his wrists. "Is he going to try to choke me again? Either way, it's a deal," he said. "Is it more fun for you if I fight you or just go along?"

She tilted her head toward him and put her hands over his wrists, fingers to the pulse points. His heartbeat was calm, steady. "Do you even know how to go along?" she asked.

"For a pretty lady?" he murmured and fluttered his eyelashes at her. "I will do my valiant best. I mean, you can ask Gaila if you don't believe me, but I am totally not just about the cheap alley gangbangs at all." She smacked his hand lightly across the knuckles and he mock winced and fluttered his lashes a little bit more.

There was no way in hell it could be this easy, she knew that. She still had the stink of an alley in her nostrils that she couldn't forget and the sense memory of the dull blankness of his expression. He wasn't okay, but the sun on his eyes, brightening his skin and hair to gold and the easy way he smiled made her want to pretend everything she knew was wrong.

"Come by my quarters tonight and we'll see," she said.

His eyebrows went way up. "No. Seriously? You are still with Spock, right? He's not dumping you to run off to New Vulcan and replenish the species or anything, right?" She would almost have thought it was a careless, thoughtless question, but there was the tilt of something cruel around his mouth. His face was serious, curious. Watching her to see if the question hurt.

She nodded and didn't say 'touche' out loud, but she definitely thought it. "Spock and I understand each other on this one," she said instead. That was just as true. More true.

He laughed and shook his head, drawing his hands away. "Do I not count, is that what it is?" he asked lightly. "Maybe play toys are for sharing?" This time the daggers edge of his words was pointed right back at himself.

"Maybe," she said, instead of the 'shut up' that she wanted to. It was the right thing. He smirked, drew back his hands and stood up.

"Your quarters, then, ma'am," he teased. He was teasing now, edge of cruelty submerged. "See you and... whoever there."

When she told Spock about it later in the afternoon he just nodded, slowly, thoughtfully. "And shall I be there, Nyota?" he asked. He rubbed his fine, long fingered hand over the narrow bones of her wrist and she sighed, leaning into the sensation of touch. She wanted him to be. She wanted back up dealing with this high wire act she'd gotten herself into. Maybe.

"Not yet," she finally said. "Soon."

Spock nodded again. "As you think is best. And as you wish."

Uhura shrugged and drew her hands back and away from him. "Kirk raised an interesting point, I think," she finally said. "Will you be going to New Vulcan? I understand that they need... assistance, I suppose. It would be logical, wouldn't it?"

Spock turned his head away, looking out the window and into the clouds. He didn't answer her. Of course that was an answer too.

She wished to hell she'd never asked him the question to begin with. She didn't want to be petty, she wanted to be fair. None of this was fair.

\

She didn't know what she was going to do with Jim until he showed up. Late at night, just drunk enough that she could smell it, but steady on his feet. He was dressed in a loose, long sleeved shirt that covered him from throat to wrists and he smiled at her, bright and electric, like his nerves were humming. She didn't know how she expected him to be after the night in the alley, but it wasn't really this.

"Just you?" was the first thing he said as he looked around the narrow room like he thought Spock might be hiding behind the wardrobe.

She shrugged. "Disappointed?" she asked lightly and watched his face.

He shook his head, just emphatically enough. "No," he said quickly and then stopped. Smiled. "Well, maybe a little. Doesn't matter. How do you want me, Lieutenant Uhura?"

"Well, I want you to start by calling me, Nyota, _Captain_," she teased. "And I'll call you-- what would you like? James?"

He flinched. It was a quick gesture, if she hadn't been looking straight at him, she'd have missed it. He covered it with a wink and grin. "No," he said. "You'd sound like my mother's third husband, and... man. Just no."

Uhura nodded and took a step forward. Close enough to put her hands on him, but she didn't, not yet. "Jimmy," she said. She'd called him that before. He'd responded... well.

He blinked at her and shivered lightly, like he wasn't too completely covered up to feel cold. "Jimmy," he said. "Damn, now that should make you sound like my mom or my kindergarten teacher."

"Should it, Jimmy?" she arched a brow. This time she did touch him, a hand on the bare curve of his cheek. His skin was warm and smooth, fresh shaved. She leaned forward and kissed him, a brush of lips over his cheek while she drew a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. She could feel the hesitation, the bunched up a muscles, but it was only a second before he went with it. His mouth was loose, relaxed under hers. Wet and sweet. "So, I guess we're doing this the easy way," she murmured against his skin.

He laughed at her, deep and full throated, skin rumbling against her mouth. "I'm real easy, Nyota," he promised.

She grinned right back, but just for a second, and took a step back so that they were looking right at each other. "Take off your clothes," she told him without tearing her gaze from his. "And fold them up on the chair. Neatly."

He hesitated, almost long enough to be obvious and then shrugged. She half expected him to make it sexy, slow, but it wasn't. Not deliberately so. He was careless with himself, his body, just shrugging and tugging his way out of his tunic and trousers like he was alone in his quarters and getting ready for bed. He folded them while she watched, with a careful military precision, straightening the corners and laying them down on the chair.

There were bruises down one side, yellow and purple, and she wondered vaguely if it was from the same sparring match he'd mentioned at lunch or something else. She had a rough memory flash of the first time, him in the alley, torn clothes and bloody, semen wet face. Hard cock, flushed and sore from overuse.

When he kicked off his boxer he wasn't hard now, not yet. Just the beginning of something there, stirring interest. He followed her gaze down and grinned outright. She smiled back, looking him right in the eyes. God, he was making this easy. She had the desperate wish she knew what he was thinking-- didn't even want to imagine the thousand ways for screwing this up. The number one way was probably to look uncertain, out of control.

She took a deep breath. "Hands and knees," she said. He dimpled at her, but he went down, smooth and practiced. Hands spread wide on the floor, ass just a little in the air.

"You are so kinky, baby," he said, looking up at her from under a thick fringe of eyelashes. Blue eyes, hard and icy. For a second, she thought they looked like Spock's when he wouldn't tell her his plans for New Vulcan. "Is that all you got? Because if it is, I gotta say--" She didn't wait for him to finish. She cracked her palm down across his pretty mouth, hard enough to split his lip.

"Don't," was all she said. Sharp, unshaken. She'd always had really excellent control over her voice. "Don't you think the entire planet has had enough of your mouth?"

He shrugged. Didn't lower his gaze, just kept looking at her. Licked a drop of blood off his mouth, slow and easy, before answering. "I don't see why. You haven't," he said and smiled. His cock was hard.

She forced her hands not to clench into fists. "Come with me," she said instead of answering. He shifted, like he was going to stand and she slapped him again, this time over the meat of his ass. "No. Like you are." He laughed, but he did it. Crawled after her over the hard, carpetless floor of her quarters.

She stopped by her bed and hiked up her skirt before sitting down on the bed. She just had to look at him before he crawled between her legs. His breath was warm on the soft cotton of her panties. She could feel his tongue through the fabric, knew how good it would feel underneath.

Not this time. She reached down and lifted his chin, stroking the smooth skin of his face. Rubbing her thumb onto the bruised places, the ones she'd left and the ones other people had.

"On the bed," she told him. He blinked at her, eyes wider, but he did it. Crawled up next to her and let her position him like a doll on his back, knees spread, loose and pliant to give her access to the length of him and the soft thickness of his balls. She touched him there, the skin underneath, between the balls and his hole. First delicate, then rough. Just short of nails.

He gasped, just once. "Tell me what you want," she whispered. "Tell me what you like." He shook his head. "Jimmy," she snapped. She pressed her palm against the length of his cock.

His lips parted. "More," he said. "You. I don't know. More."

She leaned down so that she was level with his ear without ever taking her hand off his cock. She gripped him hard and everywhere she could. "More what, Jimmy?" she asked him. "More how? Can you even ask for it?"

"Can only ask," he hissed.

"Fine." When she bit down on the earlobe and jerked roughly at him, once, twice, three times, he came like he hadn't jerked off in a week. His whole body shook and for a long time and he didn't say a word.

She curled up against the hollow of his side and watched him come down slowly, touched him while he did. She wasn't sure if her hands on him calmed him down or made the aftershocks last longer. Wasn't sure what he was feeling.

She saw it in his eyes when he pulled himself together-- even before he smiled. Something snapping closed, back under control. His smile was wide and red, dark blood dry on his broken lip. He turned his cheek against her palm, brushing it with his lip. Slight wetness of his tongue peeking out.

"My turn," he said. She nodded and let him put her hands on her hips and slide his way down, mouth hot against her clothes. She tangled her fingers in his hair and let everything go.

After, Jim, took off running with a narrow salute and a little boy grin and Spock showed up chiming her bell about five minutes afterwards like he was waiting by the door for Jim to leave.

She sighed and let him in, let him wrap his arms around her shoulders. "Did it go well?" he asked.

She could only shrug. "Better than the last time." She was pretty sure that was true at least.

Spock only nodded. "May I see?" he asked, but he was already pressing his hand against her cheek and forehead before she had a chance to answer yes and no. She breathed a yes anyway, and let the memories come up. "Ah," he said. "So."

She probably should have been surprised when Spock made a slow, soft sound and then slipped down next to her. Traced out the places with his mouth where Jim had touched. Hot and gentle where Jim had been warm and rough.

She came hard on his tongue, braced up against the wall of her quarters, less than two feet from the door. Panting for air, fingers scrabbling on his shoulders for purchase.

After, she expected him to say something, something about Jim, but instead he looked up at her with intent dark eyes, mouth still wet and slick with her. "If I were to travel to New Vulcan," he said. "It would be my honor if you would accompany me, Nyota."

She cupped her hands around his chin and stared down at him. Her breath was still coming too fast, heart still beating overtime. His skin under her hands was too hot. "Oh," she said. "Okay."

He gave a slow, careful smile. "You will?" he asked.

She bit her own lip and remembered the way Jim Kirk's had split under her hand. "I... I will think about it," she said. "I will. It's a radical decision for me."

He nodded gravely and slipped up to his feet. "Indeed," he said. "Logic would dictate you take the effects on your Starfleet career into deep consideration."

She sighed. "Yeah. I--" she stopped. Shook her head. "Come to bed with me," she said instead of whatever else she could have. "I want to sleep next to you tonight."

That night she dreamed of the Vulcan that used to be melting into the gleaming corridors of the Enterprise. A thousand languages to be learned. The Enterprise's captain, with his beautiful bleeding mouth.

She dreamed of Spock, whispering into her ear and telling her everything was going to be okay. She believed him.  
\

On the next Friday night, Uhura found Jim in a bar just a few blocks from the Academy with two girls, one under each arm. He was telling a story, she could see that before she could hear. His mouth was curled into laughter and he illustrated some point by drawing it on one of the girl's shoulders.

Up close she could see he was drunk, but not wasted. His eyes gleamed and his cheeks where a little too red. He smiled when he saw her coming, like he was happy to see her and took both hands off his new friends to wave to her.

"Uhura," he called. "This is Lizzie and Ronnie. They are buying me drinks. How awesome is that?"

Lizzie was apparently the confused looking brunet. She just blinked.

Ronnie was the skinny blonde whose eyes got wide when Jim pointed at Uhura. "Lieutenant Uhura?" she said. "You were with Jim, right? On the Enterprise? I saw you on the news. Oh my god, wow." She flushed bright pink the second the words left her mouth. "I mean. It's such an honor, ma'am."

Uhura smiled and shook her head. "We did what we had to," she said and Jim laughed and nodded his head. She rolled her eyes at him. "I hate to interrupt, but I need to borrow my Captain for a minute."

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Jim by the wrist and tugged him out of his seat. He breathed beer laden breath at her and laughed in her ear. "Your Captain, huh?" he stage whispered, loud enough to be heard over the blaring music. "Are you jealous? You are, aren't you? You shouldn't be, Lizzie would totally do you."

Uhura rolled her eyes again and led them out toward the back. "You mean Ronnie. I think Lizzie was too high to remember her name. Anyway, the young and hero worshiping aren't my type."

"Yeah, yeah, you only like em anal retentive and logical, I know that." He shrugged. Paused and looked around and then stumbled when she pulled on his hand harder. "Where are we going? Are we going to have alley sex? Are you nostalgic for alley sex?"

She just wanted to smack him across the back of the head. Or herself. "Has anyone ever told you just not to talk?"

He showed her his teeth. "Every day and in every way. Seriously, where are we going? Is something wrong?" For a second he actually looked upset, good mood dampening visibly. "Are you okay? Is Spock okay? Is there something I can do?"

She sighed. She hadn't actually wanted a reminder of the ways he wasn't a complete asshole. "No. It-- no."

He blinked and scratched his head. "Well, that's good. So, um, what?"

"So," she said. "Spock wants to go to New Vulcan."

Jim blinked and she could see the second confusion melted into outrage. "He's leaving you for some Vulcan? Seriously? That complete shitbag, I should kick his--"

She stopped him by putting a hand on his arm, gripping hard. "Jim," she said. "Jimmy. He asked me to come with him."

Jim's draw dropped. She didn't know if she should be flattered by that expression or not, not until he opened his mouth. "He asked you to give up the stars," he said. "Wow. Well, what did you say?"

She shrugged and looked down at her feet. "I said I needed to think about it," she admitted.

He nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. Wow. So, um, you sure you don't wanna have alleyway sex? You know, for giggles?" She smacked him one in the face and he laughed at her. "How about my quarters, then?" he said, holding up his hand to his cheek like it stung. "Not for sex. Necessarily. Just, it's quiet and there's something I need to ask you anyway."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Let's do that."

Jim's quarters turned out to be surprisingly neat and spartan. Just a bed with a nightstand next to it, a picture in a silver frame resting on it. A PADD resting on scuffed looking desk and a small, well organized pile of old style paper books next to it.

"Have a seat," he said and gestured to a breakfast table with two chairs at it. "I'll pour you a drink."

She nodded, just pausing to get a better look at the picture by his bed while he popped open a bottle of something red. She couldn't help but wonder who it was he had there next to him. A family? She knew he had a father who was famously dead and a mother who had a reputation as one of the best engineers in Starfleet, but that was it.

She winced when he caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. She moved away fast, flushing and settling into the chair he'd indicated before so quickly it took her a second before she thought to question feeling guilty. He couldn't be annoyed about her wanting to see when he'd asked her here and left it out himself. Could he?

As if to answer the question she didn't ask, he put down the bottle, walked up and picked up the picture in its frame and handed it over to her. Wordlessly. His fingers touched hers when she took it from him.

It was an ordinary looking scene. There was a tall, blonde woman, one arm wrapped around a too pretty teenage boy with a sullen face and the other around a tall man with an expression wooden enough to give Uhura the willies. She didn't know why though, if it was something in the picture or something in Jim's expression that set her off.

"Is that you and your family?" she asked softly, even though it was obvious.

"Yeah. Me, my mom and her husband, Mikey." His mouth quirked. "My stepfather. Real nice guy, Mikey. I bought an entire bar three rounds to celebrate when she finally divorced him."

"But you keep him right there by you bed. Sounds very loving," Uhura said and tried to figure out what he wanted her to ask, why he was telling her this. Trying to think past Jim Kirk made her head hurt.

"Loving." Jim smiled at her, his mouth tilting, twisting the bruise on the corner. "Oh yeah. _Sure_."

"But... you keep the picture right there, where you can see." She shook her head. She was the one who didn't see.

"I do. It's an important reminder. You think he did something to me," he said, after a brief pause. "Mikey the stepfather. You think maybe that's why I let those guys do that to me that time you saw."

She shrugged, keeping her hands loose and unclenched on the table in front of her. It was an effort, took concentration. The truth was she hadn't thought about it at all until just now-- no reason in the world to-- but the second he said it she knew. Questions she'd agonized over and questions she didn't know she had, they all just clicked. "Did he?" was all she asked. "Was it?"

Jim just raised an eyebrow. "It's funny. A lot of my old teachers thought that to. That maybe he did. Even my martial arts instructor when I was a kid. I went through all kinds of shit because what they'd do, is they'd keep reporting it to the authorities. And the authorities kept looking into it. Full imaging physical scans in some _really_ fucking personal areas." He leaned forward like he was going to show her something, but he just clearly enunciated his next words instead. "It sucked."

She breathed out, slow and careful. "They didn't find anything," she said. Of course not. He'd have been removed from the man's custody if they had.

Jim shrugged and his mouth curled. "Guess not."

Uhura closed her eyes, just for a second, just because they ached. "Will you tell me what he did?" she asked, softly, soft as a whisper.

Jim laughed out loud. He sounded genuinely amused, like she'd told a great joke. "Assuming arguendo, that there's a story here, why the fuck would I tell it to you when I didn't tell it to them? I mean, I actually liked my marital arts instructor, she was an awesome lady." He didn't pause for Uhura to get a word in. "Is it because we serve together? Because, guess what, I'm still the captain and you're still not. That means I ask the questions."

"Jim--" she began. He cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand, curled at the knuckle. It made her flinch despite everything. Made her remember that even like this he was bigger, stronger, with tight and wide hands.

"Is it because we fucked a few times?" he continued talking like she hadn't moved a muscle but he pulled his hands back with a jerk as quick as her flinch. Away from her, so that they rested them in his lap. "Because you took what you wanted. Don't get me wrong, it was fun times, but I don't think we owe each other anything."

She pushed her palms against her thighs, pressing down hard and met his eyes. Blue and bruised-- the bruises probably as much from exhaustion as the hit to the face he'd taken. He looked like he was waiting for something. She wished she knew what. "Do you think I'm stupid? Because you brought it up," she finally said. "You brought me here specifically to have this conversation. You want me to ask. You want to tell me."

His mouth quirked and he licked his lower lip. "Really? As your boyfriend—remember him, he's the one that's never around and wants to grab you and run off to New Vulcan-- would say, that is just _fascinating_. Why don't you tell me a little bit more about what I want?"

She put one hand over her face. "Honestly? Other than for me to hurt you? I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

He blinked at her, she could see it through the gaps in her fingers. "Huh," he said. "Well... I want you to join the crew of the Enterprise permanently. How would you feel about that?"

She almost kicked her chair over. "Wait. What?" He grinned at her like he'd pulled the best rabbit out of the best hat in the history of hat tricks.

"It's the best ship in the fucking fleet, Uhura. I think it needs the best xenolinguistics expert to man it, don't you?" His eyes shone, bright as stars. Intense. "What do you say?"

Her head ached worse than she would have believed was possible about five minutes ago. "Is this some scary tactical way to manipulate me into saying yes?" she demanded.

"Yes," he admitted without pause or shame. "It's kind of cobbled together, because you really sprang that Vulcan thing on me before I had a chance to come up with something better. Is it working?"

"You could have just asked like a normal person," she said sharply. "I would have said yes."

He tilted his head toward her, templing his hands against his forehead. "Okay. I'm asking."

"And I'm saying yes." This time she didn't hesitate. "Not for you. For the ship."

He just smirked, eyes bright. "Good God, Uhura. I wouldn't have expected you to do it for me," he said. "You're not crazy." The thing was, she could tell for once that he wasn't lying. Not really. He actually believed that.

There was a lot she could have said next, but what came out was, "I want Spock on the crew too."

"You think he's not going to New Vulcan without you?" Jim said and shook his head. Then he stopped. "No. What I meant to say is I do too. Want him there. On my crew."

"I wish I could say I thought he wasn't going to New Vulcan without me," Uhura admitted, since he said that first.

Jim nodded, looking interested. "Is that why you've been fucking around with me?" he asked. "To see if he'd get jealous, right?"

"No," she said. She could have said a lot more, could have explained the hows and the whys and the permission she'd gotten, the go ahead. To come to this man's bed and figure him out. Find the broken bits. Make them right. It sounded really awful and smug when she was here like this and he was smiling his beautiful smile at her. What the hell did she know about what broken meant?

"Why then?" he pressed anyway. He waited, but she didn't, wouldn't answer. She could see his too fast brain whirring while he tried for a different tactic. "Why would he go without you?"

"It's a whole world, Jim," she said and closed her eyes. Sometimes she was just so tired. "He lost a whole world. Neither of us know what that's like." It's true, they don't. And a lot of that is on this wild man-boy sitting across the table from her, suddenly looking as tired as she feels.

Jim just shook his head. His hair was a mess, scattered. "He hasn't lost you," he said. "You're still here. I would-- I don't know--" Then he leaned across the table, up on his elbows, and kissed her. He tasted of smooth, sweet California wine. It was the gentlest kiss he'd ever given her, almost like one of Spock's. And it struck Uhura that this was the first second it ever felt like she might be cheating.

Like the thought summoned it, the doorbell chimed. Uhura jerked away or maybe Jim did it first. They looked at each other, wide eyed, still. Jim scrubbed under his eyes with his knuckles, looking for all the world like a naughty little boy that'd been caught out at something.

"I better get that," he said. Uhura just nodded.

She wasn't even surprised when she heard Jim's voice a moment later, too soft. "Spock," he said.

"Is Nyota here?" Spock asked. She could hear his feet shuffle without turning to see. His perfect stillness broken.

She turned around to look at him, face him. Met his eyes. "I'm here," she said. She got to her feet, careful and steady. Not shaking at all.

Vaguely, in the background, she heard Jim cough. "Yeah," he said. "I'll leave you two to--"

"No," Spock said, still and implacable. "This concerns you as well." Uhura followed the movement of his hand, almost too fast. He grabbed Jim by the wrist, keeping him there.

"Oh," Jim said softly in a tone Uhura was just starting to recognize. Spock didn't let go of him, like maybe he recognized it too.

But it was Uhura he looked in the face. "You have no wish to go to go with the Vulcan colonists. I will not go without you," he said. "I have no... no wish to do so either."

"Without me?" Uhura asked softly. "You would... I mean, you don't have to give up something you want because of me."

Spock shook his head, but it was Jim that answered. "At all, I bet. Who the hell would want to?" he said, a little too sharply. "Anyway, I appreciate the heads up and all, but you guys do know these are my quarters, not the soap opera auditions, right?"

Spock smiled and ignored him. Just a little bit, but it sent a shiver down Uhura's spine. "You do not have to give up something you want because of me either," he said. "Especially not when it is something you know I want as well."

Then he leaned down, hand still wrapped tight around Jim's wrist, and kissed him. Just lightly, gently. She could see how gentle it was reflected in Jim's slightly parted lips and wide blue eyes. "Oh," he said out loud, voice light and careless. "I get it. Guess Uhura wasn't trying to make you jealous after all."

She stood up, the chair almost clattering beneath her, and went to them. _You don't get it at all_, she thought, seeing the biting edge of that self depreciating smile under his surprise. _But, pray God, you will._


End file.
